


Timing

by missbeizy



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 09:44:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2768585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbeizy/pseuds/missbeizy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been hours.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Timing

The weight is there, pressing his chest. It's been hours. He keeps track, continually checking the glow of pixel numbers on his cell-phone just to make sure he's got it. And the pain is still there. The first premiere, the first real viewing, and the depression he'd experienced during the months after filming is ready to seduce him again. It may be short-lived, this sudden crest of anxiety. He's not very good at defining emotion like thisemotion that comes down on him like fists. 

The hallway is as good as any place to wander. He needs to feel active, to feel as if he's doing something, so he walks. He takes the elevator to each floor and walks the perfectly rectangular halls with compulsive strictness. With each lap completed, some of the panic goes away. When he finds himself standing at the elevator doors again, his heart pounds a little less. 

The hotel is a warm and quiet living thing all around him. It must be four or so in the morning, he thinks. The people that decided beforehand to come home at a sane time from the after party have done so, and the rest remain lost in action. Dom text messaged Elijah about an hour ago to let him know that he and Billy had tucked themselves in to bed safely. Sean hasn't called yet, which is unusual. Elijah tries to remember Sean's floor and room number, but the digits scatter under his attention. 

He could really do with some Sean right about now.

His chest tightens again.

Unsure of the floor number and whether or not he's done this one yet, Elijah steps out of the elevator and feels a vibration against his thigh. He gets the phone flipped and tucks it to his ear, anticipation alive just behind his Adam's apple. "Yello?"

"Where are you, kid?"

Sean's voice sends a warm shiver of comfort through Elijah's fingers.

"Giving myself the tour."

At the start of a long hallway, Elijah stops and notes the wallpaper pattern simply because he's done so on every floor so far. With that detail (another bit of filler between his uneasiness and the rest of him) he looks down the corridor and sees a figure at the other end. Sean stands, cell-phone against his ear, his posture mirroring Elijah's perfectly. 

Elijah smirks and tips the mouthpiece closer to his lips. "Stalker."

"In your dreams, geek boy." Sean flips his phone shut and starts down the hall, bare feet peeking out from underneath long sweatpants. "Why aren't you sleeping?" Elijah misses the low tone of his phone-voice. He reaches Elijah seconds later. "And you're mute." Elijah's blank express inspires sudden concern. "What's up?"

Elijah has no intention of giving an honest answer, but finds words coming out of his mouth, regardless. "Don't feel so good." His throat closes up. "Pretty shitty, to be exact." He takes a few steps and Sean follows behind. 

"Hey," Sean begins, putting a hand on Elijah's shoulder. "Wait. Talk to me." This prompts a grumble from Elijah, and Sean brings up his other hand on Elijah's opposite shoulder, squeezing his fingers. He lowers his voice a notch. "Talk to me."

"Mm." Elijah leans back all at once, letting his head fall onto Sean's shoulder. The muscles in Sean's arms and shoulders tense up. "Why aren't _you_ sleeping?"

"Nice try." Sean drops his hands and Elijah stands up straight, falling back to Sean's side as they begin to walk again. 

"Let's not talk about it right now," Elijah says. "I'm tired and it's late and my head is fucking throbbing."

Sean sneaks his fingers into Elijah's pocket and quickly fishes out a room keycard. (Elijah sees: _The fingers stay and their heat soaks through the thin cotton pocket to skin, setting his hip to burning, and he turns, and their breath mingles_.) The next thing he knows he's being led into an elevator with Sean's familiar hand cupping his elbow. 

His thoughts travel to time again and he gauges how many minutes there are until morning. Until breakfast, maybe, if they have time, and then until the flight, and then until he gets to sleep and be himself again, and then until the next time he and Sean might be alone like this. That last thought isn't a safe one, so he finds himself memorizing wallpaper patterns again as they step into this more familiar hallway.

At his door, Sean clicks the keycard in and out, and turns the handle. He fiddles with the slice of plastic for a heartbeat before holding it out to Elijah. As he takes it, Elijah thinks that there must be a reason why Sean isn't in bed with Christine at this hour.

They hold onto their respective ends of the keycard for longer than necessary. Sean finally lets go. Elijah pockets it and then turns to go inside. "You going to wander until the wakeup call?"

Sean shifts his weight onto his other foot. "Probably."

"The tour's boring," Elijah says, offering half a smile, one hand on the doorframe and the other dangling as he turns to glance at Sean.

An eyebrow goes up, and Sean chuckles. "Yeah?"

The half-smile fades. "I don't want to be alone, either. It's been one hell of a night."

Emptying his lungs of air, Sean steps past Elijah and into the room. With one last glance at the wallpaper in the hallway, Elijah closes the door behind them. He looks over and catches the very end of Sean turning off the cell-phone that had been clipped to his hip. Elijah's stomach churns. He quickly does the same with his phone. Its tiny clock reads just over half past four.

"Gotta change." He snags a pair of boxers and a t-shirt from his ravaged half-open suitcase and is in and out of the bathroom in a matter of minutes. He finds Sean sitting on the bed up against the headboard. (Elijah sees: _Sean's wearing a tank top despite the fact that he hates the way he looks, and when Elijah's eyes linger too long Sean's cheeks grow hot. For the second it takes Elijah to crawl across the sheets, Sean chews the corner of his mouth and looks deliciously beautiful_.)

"This seems tame after Wellington," Sean says, sliding farther down onto the pillows.

Elijah climbs atop the blankets, sprawling on his stomach next to Sean's legs. "God, yeah. Still just as exhausting, though." With his eyes closed he can catch all the funny nuances of scent in Sean's deodorant, soap, and cologne, one on top of the other. Just another filtered detail.

His eyelids slide back up. Fingertips brush his forehead. Sean stares down at him before shifting two sets of fingertips to his temples and working them counter-clockwise in slow, firm circles. Warmth pools in Elijah's stomach but the temporary relief in his head feels just as good.

"Ooh, thank you," he half moans, hands clambering and falling around Sean's knees as he cranes up into the touch. Sean sighs, passing his fingers up, over, and behind Elijah's ears. 

Something between them accelerates, tumbling several steps forward. Time slips away from Elijah's careful attention and Sean's hands become bolder, drawing Elijah unconsciously closer. 

This is the same Sean that quickly turns off his cell-phone; the Sean whose hands come up to cover his shoulders and encourage him to come closer. This Sean doesn't think much. There are times when Elijah wishes this Sean would stick around for more than a few hours every now and then.

"Sean," Elijah sighs. 

His hands cup Elijah's face now and the pads of his fingers skimming the soft nape of Elijah's neck. "Yeah?"

Elijah sits up all at once and without thought, falling across Sean's lap and pinning their bodies together. Sean makes a small noise before curling his fingers fully against Elijah's hair and squishing their mouths together. Hot, wild relief explodes into strands of tangled curls, coating Elijah's belly and becoming tangible shock as it travels to his head. And still relief is not a strong enough word for it, though that's the result if he were asked to describe it, and the mess of legs and arms they become is just the first step.

"No, wait," Sean pulls away suddenly, lips tinged with red and wet. "Not like this."

"Sorry." Elijah's whole body cringes. He sits up on his knees and moves back. "Shit. Sorry. I'll go."

"This is your room." Sean wipes his mouth, and the sight makes Elijah's body heat up.

Another wince. Racing heart. Still tired, but painfully aware of everything now. Of Sean's heat and the fact that no one has ever come close to making Elijah fall apart with just a bit of kissing. Of the warm air humming through vents just above the bed. Of the blood lingering just under his skin. Out of the corner of his eye, Elijah spies Sean licking at his mouth.

"I didn't plan this."

"I know." Sean combs a hand through his hair. His eyes stray to the clock and then back to Elijah. "You're not going to the European premieres, are you?"

Doesn't make the connection at first. "I've got spots to do here. And it's a break."

Sean doesn't have to voice the fact that they won't be seeing much of each other, and Elijah figures it out all at once. 

He wriggles down and gets comfortable, giving Elijah's shirt a tug. "Sleep, then? Just sleep..."

When the light is off and Sean's chest is supportive and warm against his back, Elijah lets the silence hum in his ears. A part of him is still chasing the hasty mash of that kiss, still replaying it in a morbidly fascinated fashion. He turns, burying his body against Sean's, and feels the careful reply of arms coming around his trembling body. 

Hours later, when he wakes up, Elijah doesn't remember falling asleep. Sean sleeps a breath away from him, their noses touching, and before he can stop himself he's pressing his hands along Sean's back. (Elijah sees: _It's much easier to participate in the dark. The insistent push of another's face against yours under a cloak of dimness that blinds both of you is almost comforting. Kissing of that sort is like searchingunsure and gradual. He can almost identify the taste of shadows, set it apart from the taste of Sean's mouth._ )

"Sometimes it feels like we never really said goodbye," Elijah whispers, not knowing where the words come from.

Sean stirs, eyelids quivering. "Mmm?"

"Nothing," Elijah sighs, curling against Sean's shoulder.

*

The next time they see each other is at the low-scale New York premiere. It's a last minute sort of thing, guided more by the hobbits' plans for an evening out than their publicists' involvement. Stop off at the carpet, see the movie, then head out and catch a game and maybe go bar hopping. Some crazy shit with mohawks and then getting drunk but hey, whatever, it feels damned good to be the four hobbits again. New York agrees with all four of themit's the closest to New Zealand as far as comfortable geography has gone.

Back at Elijah's afterward, a small party rages. Hannah throws herself between Dom and Billy and the three have a loud reunion dominated by Hannah's stories of Elijah getting lost on the subway. Elijah looks over just as she says, "So he stands there and waits for the C because he thinks he needs to, and it's nuts, because the C stopped running at nine, and then he gets on the uptown line and ends up God knows where before he finally figures out where he's going."

Elijah stands in the doorway of the bathroom watching Sean comb the mohawk out of his hair. "Now that warms my heart." He turns back toward Sean. "It's moments like this when I remember why I moved into the same building as her."

Sean smirks, flipping off the bathroom light and drawing Elijah back into the living room. "Your sarcasm always was beautifully subtle, Elijah."

They talk the hours away and for once Sean just lets their voices run over him without contributing much. He watches Elijah move around the newly lived in apartment. His eyes scan the furniture and personal affects strewn about, and he thinks that he could identify them as Elijah's in any setting. He thinks about how well he's come to know Elijah, despite the fact that they're very different people. He worries over that without knowing why.

A couple phone calls interrupt the chatting; their people reminding them of the time they'll be picked up to get make-up done for the TRL spot the next day. Sean watches the clock. Hannah wiggles her way into coming along to the studio, and Sean leans over and whispers something about her having Dom and Billy wrapped around her little finger to Elijah. Elijah whispers back in agreement and Dom and Billy glance over, eyebrows raised. Sean and Elijah crack up, and Hannah smirks at her bother, ticking her eyes purposefully between him and Sean, as if to say, _Yeah, well, at least I'm not looking to shtup my gardener_. Elijah flips her the finger and considers them even. For the moment.

After Hannah goes across the hall to her own apartment and Dom and Billy bed down in piles of blankets near the television, Sean helps Elijah bag up all the empty food plates and bottles. They move quietly as a unit; a novelty that remains regardless of how much time they've spent apart. Their friendship requires so little maintenance; no more than a phone call every few weeks is expected. 

But what's dangerous, boys and girls, is what happens when they do meet up. That insane and flawlessly complete feeling of being the other half of the person next to you. You can't buy that and you can't wish it into existence. It feels _good_. Too good. And it takes up so much spacespace that is already cluttered up by other obligations and emotions. How many times can that ground be fought over before it becomes bloody and bifurcated?

Sean leaves a message on the answering machine for Christine and the girls before joining Elijah out on the balcony. He'll be back in LA by Friday, but he has no idea if she'll be home before then. They don't keep very good track of each other when they're apart these days.

"Shit, it's freezing." He turns and looks back at the sliding door. "And you don't have nearly enough locks on that thing."

"Install some more for me, Seanie," Elijah retorts smoothly, no hesitation showing as he slides his arms around Sean's neck.

"Hello." Sean pets Elijah's back as they come together, and the familiar warning bells go off and are ignored according to plan. "It's still freezing."

Elijah rubs the tip of his cold nose to Sean's and exhales a purposeful stream of hot breath against Sean's mouth. The sensation sets all of Sean's hair on end and brings his eyelids down low. And the desire actually comes before the act this time, comes on a tide of conscious intent that it never bothered to involve itself with before. When Elijah's kisses him, he kisses back. The smaller mouth gives way damply, letting him take control. He remembers the words _I'm not very good at this_ and he remembers that Elijah was drunk when he said them so many years ago. He remembers being allowed to own that kiss and to wield it. He remembers Elijah rushing it nonetheless.

When they break apart, he feels his own trembling. "Not so cold now."

"We've got hours," Elijah says, and Sean wonders how that qualifies as a reply. What are they doing?

His insides churn. There's still that something that urges him to resist just one more time. He can't call this waiting and live with himself, but what else is there to call it? He can't...it can't...eventually it will. And the tune plays on.

Elijah's lips brush his ear. "Just let me. You don't have to move a muscle. For once just..." Touch of a tongue and Elijah's hands bring them together harder, a thigh rubbing between Sean's.

"We should sleep," Sean says, finally, prying their bodies apart. 

Elijah will never know the effort put into speaking those three words.

*

The Golden Globe Awards are two days away. Sean's assistant calls the airport hours before Elijah's scheduled to land in LA. The manager for that gate sends a single security guard to intercept Elijah and get the young man and his own assistant to Sean with as little noise as possible. Sean hates this sort of thing, but it's become increasingly necessary, and setting the process into motion is out of his hands. Besides that, he's so used to his own assistantthe man's become more a friend than anything elseand so used to Elijah's that it's more like the four of them reuniting than just he and Elijah doing so.

Still, he'll admit to being absorbed by seeing Elijah at the gate, knitted hat pulled down to the top of his sunglasses, all petite limbs encased smoothly in denim and cotton. And he thinks the same thing that comes to mind every time they see each other before an eventElijah's grown so much. 

Before he's allowed time to process this, Elijah's vaulted into his arms, carry-on bag dropped at his feet. Sean grins and folds his arms around Elijah, tucking his chin over Elijah's shoulder. They slip apart, eyes meeting. Elijah's assistant grabs his carry-on and nudges him toward the baggage claim.

"It's weird, not expecting Dom and Bill," Elijah comments, dragging his suitcase. 

Sean grabs Elijah's second suitcase. Flanked by their assistants and the security guard behind rushing them along, they make it outside to Sean's car without being stopped. Sean slips into the backseat with Elijah and their assistants climb in the front. The security guard is all smiles and shakes their hands as they quickly sign a couple of autographs for his daughter. With the baggage piled in the back the car finally parts with the curb, and Elijah slides his arms around Sean's elbow, pulling them together.

"Where to?"

"Want to show you the new condo," Sean says, smiling. "Makes me feel twenty again."

Elijah lifts Sean's hand from his thigh, tracing the pale line where his wedding band used to be. "How is she?"

Sean wriggles his fingers, half lacing them with Elijah's for just a moment. "I don't know. We're having a hard time of it. But it was even more unbearable at home."

Elijah props his chin on Sean's shoulder. "You sure you want to do the carpet thing? We could cancel."

Sean smiles. "I'm okay."

After a quick tour of Sean's new place, they drop off their assistants and spend the rest of the evening visiting with Elijah's family. A few of his hometown friends crash for dinner and the loud, bubbly group they form distracts Sean thoroughly. 

"The movie was good," Debbie says in Sean's ear as he passes her the wine bottle. 

Sean thinks about Adam Sandler and laughs. "It was campy. And insanely fun to make. I don't know if I'd call it good."

"It was good," she repeats, pointing her wineglass decisively at him before passing Elijah a stack of napkins.

He'd like to think so. Elijah drags his friends outside for a smoke and Sean chats with Debbie for a while. He feels comfortable with her. Something about her attitudea lot like his mother's, on a certain level. And she always did like he and Elijah being close. Sean smirks to himself.

The clock above the stove reads half past midnight. Sean wanders outside and touches his hand to the back of Elijah's jacket. "Plans?"

Elijah glances at his small group. "Nah. I will... Catch up with you lot later? Got my number, still?"

A brief round of hugs and handshakes and Elijah darts inside to say goodbye to his mother. He's out the door with Sean's jacket and a tupperware full of leftovers minutes later. He catches up with Sean in the driveway, bumping his chest up against Sean's back and draping the jacket over Sean's shoulders. 

On the road, Elijah rolls up his window after flinging his cigarette butt. He smiles over at Sean. "You really ought to give me a better tour of your place. That last one was cheap."

Sean reaches over with and pins Elijah's neck under a crooked elbow, dragging him over and kissing the top of his head soundly before letting him go.

*

Elijah stands in front of Sean's entertainment system, stroking the Playstation controller and flipping through a box of games with his other hand. "Oh, now, see, yes. This is good. You've come so far!"

Sean rolls his eyes and falls onto the couch, spreading out comfortably. "Enjoy."

"Not gonna play with me?" Elijah curls the controller to his chest, pouting.

"C'mere." 

Sean's hands come up and tug at Elijah's shirt, bringing him to his knees over Sean's lap. He winds his arms around Elijah's waist and presses his face into Elijah's shirt. 

Elijah twines his arms around Sean's neck, bringing his mouth down against the top of Sean's head. "This is fun."

Sean smacks Elijah's leg, eliciting a giggle from the younger man on his lap. 

"Are we skipping ahead, then?"

Sean wriggles them apart and slides down to lay on his side, drawing Elijah against his chest and spooning their bodies together. "I don't know." He buries his nose in the hair at the back of Elijah's neck. "Missed you. Feel so good."

Sobering a bit, Elijah gets comfortable in the tight embrace, relishing the flat heavy warmth of Sean's palm closed over his belly. Their legs shift and very nearly tangle down the length of the couch. Sean's mouth searches, finding the softness behind Elijah's ear, stalling easily there.

Heart pounding, Elijah opens his eyes. "We should, ah. Talk. I guess?"

Sean's hands slide higher, his mouth shifting placement a bit. "I'm sorry."

"Mmm, alright, that wasn't exactly how I thought the conversation would start."

Sean smiles at the stifled laughter in Elijah's voice, curling his arm further around and getting some feeling back into it. "No. I just mean, well, you've never complained, all those times I pushed you away. You never asked for anything or expected anything."

"I wasn't exactly saving myself for you."

"Thank God. I would've gone crazy if you had been," Sean replies. "But you've been really selfless the past couple years. I can't even see being that easy-going myself."

Elijah squirms and rolls over, bringing them suddenly face to face. "We have a very simple relationship, dude. We always have. It's relaxing, even when it distracts me. I tell you that all the time. Whatever you wanted to do with your life, whatever decisions you wanted to make about Chris. It was your thing. And I had my own thing and that's just...us. Right?"

"Mm." 

"So there you go. Easy. Done. Fin. The end. Whatever happens...happens. It's hard to make plans when you're us." Trailing off with a chuckle, Elijah works a hand around Sean's torso. He squints suddenly at the kitchen. "You bought drinks, right?"

"Yeah." Sean laughs, drawing Elijah's face back down to his. "One track mind."

"Actually, the one track is more along the lines of..." Elijah grins and slides a knee between Sean's thighs, pressing up.

Sean clamps his legs tight, smirking. "Whelp."

Elijah presses his lips lightly against Sean's, smiling. "Shut up and kiss me, asshole."

"Oh, that's sweet, mmm..." Sean trails off, kissing back with only half his attention, absorbed in the wet, warm part of Elijah's lips, taken by the need to sweep the circle with the tip of his tongue as it gives way.

Pulling back, Elijah's face is hot, and the sudden brush of pink across his cheeks draws the edges of Sean's thumbs. Sean smiles, feeling his heart race, and bends to taste that mouth again. Licking the moisture from his upper lip, Elijah exhales. 

"For all the times we've done this, it's kind of silly," he says, and speaking is much easier when they're so close they can't really look at each other. "Never thought about it too much, because we couldn't..."

"Yeah," Sean agrees, lowering his cheek and then his lips slowly to Elijah's jaw. He kisses there, prompting Elijah to turn his head slightly, and watches the bob of Elijah's Adam's apple; the lower Sean kisses the farther back Elijah's head tilts. Sean opens his eyes just long enough to take in the creamy shape that for some reason has always been a focal point for him, just long enough to aim a proper kiss right at the hollow, to feel the pulse-beat hammer against his lips there. He cups the other side in his hand, holding it carefully as his kisses trail and convert patches of skin to dampness, as Elijah stirs against the couch cushions and begins to breath out of rhythm.

When Sean closes his teeth softly at the apex of Elijah's neck and shoulder, Elijah lets out a muffled sigh and finds his pelvis pushing at Sean's thigh. The pink along his skin flushes a shade darker, curling the corners of Sean's lips up in a grin. Sean sits up a bit, letting his free hand fall to Elijah's hip. "Like that?" 

A quiet laugh is the only reply. Still grinning to himself, Sean lifts his head and drags the side of his knuckles along Elijah's cheek. Smiling, Elijah gathers up Sean's hair between his fingers and fits them together again, enjoying the warm puff of breath against the crease of his neck as they lay there in humming silence. Several minutes later, Elijah reclines, letting a pillow cushion his head. 

"Hello," Elijah says, smiling, and, with a quick glance at the clock just beside the couch, brings Sean's face down to cover his.


End file.
